


Breathe Into Me (And Make Me Real)

by puckertt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorder, Eating Disorders, Hurt, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Derek, Underage Character, derek comforting stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckertt/pseuds/puckertt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens, Stiles is too young to understand. The second time he promises himself to never do it again. All the other, countless times it happens he promises that same thing over again and over again but he's already lost and fading fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe Into Me (And Make Me Real)

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains Stiles with an eating disorder, so if this sort of thing works triggering for you, please please please don't read this. I'm always here for you if you ever want to talk!

The first time it happens, Stiles is too young to understand. He just recently moved to Beacon Hills with his father, and it’s his first day at his new school. He tries his best to be a good student, and leave a good first impression on his new teacher, but he has trouble sitting still and just keeps bouncing up and down in his chair the entire day. The teacher doesn’t seem to like him a lot either, sneers at him for his messy handwriting and the other kids don’t seem to like him either. One of them even tells him explicitly by continuously kicking against his chair and whispering ‘ugly freak’ to him multiple times. He feels awful when he gets home, is desperate for a little comfort from the familiarity of his own room, and his father, but it turns out his dad isn’t even home when Stiles arrives, he just left a key under the doormat. (Stiles knows exactly where to find the key, is used to his father being away for hours without saying anything.) He goes inside and does what he most feels like doing; eat. He grabs handfuls of dry crackers from the cupboard while he scoops dollops of peanut butter out of the huge family-jar that they own, and eats all of the chocolate-chip cookies that his dad usually saves for when he gets home after work until his little stomach is tight as drum. Then he runs to the bathroom and throws it all up. He cleans the bathroom and hides the empty packaging underneath his mattress, because even though he doesn’t understand what just happened, he’s sure that his dad mustn’t find out. 

The next time it happens, Stiles is 13 and just had the shittiest day in the history of shitty days. (or that’s what he called it before he knew what real shitty days were). He got a D on his English essay that he worked so hard on, and then had a fight with Scott who angrily told him that he’s stupid and the weakest excuse for a friend ever. He knows Scott didn’t mean it, that he said it in the heat of the moment, but it still hurts. On top of that, when he came home from school he ended up having a huge fight with his dad as well who just won’t listen when Stiles asks him if maybe he could be home a little more instead of spending all his time, or when he tries to get his dad to eat a bit healthier. He stops at the grocery store on his way home, and buys a pint of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice-cream and multiple chocolate bars. He finishes it all, basically stuff his face with it until he’s finished every last bit. He looks at the empty packaging’s and feels disgusted with himself. He should never be allowed to tell his dad to be healthier anymore when is he being even unhealthier himself. This time he makes himself throw up, sticks two fingers down his throat until he starts coughing and gagging and eventually bile starts rising in his throat and he pukes everything out. It hurts but he just keeps his fingers there until he’s sure he’s gotten everything out. His eyes are red and watery afterwards and his throat is burning but he tries to ignore it.

After that second time he promises himself to never, ever, do it again, but ofcourse he doesn’t keep to that promise. It happens more in the three years after that, but not enough for it to actually be an issue (or that’s what he keeps telling himself), usually about once a month, but sometimes he goes months without it, and sometimes, when he’s having a particular bad one, it happens multiple times a week. He always makes sure to cover his tracks, always cleans the toilet right after and throws away the empty packaging’s of whatever he has binged on. It isn’t a big deal, really. He doesn't like to really think about it either. It’s just something he does, his way of dealing with negative feelings. It's nothing. (or so he keeps telling himself)

~*~*~*~

It gets worse after the whole werewolf-thing. Not that he doesn’t enjoy it, or whatever, he thinks it’s pretty fucking awesome and loves the fact that supernatural creatures really do exist in real life instead of just in his imagination, and likes the adventure and the adrenaline kicks it gives him, but it also makes him feel so fucking useless. Sure, he’s not the only human left, but Allison is an amazing hunter, and Danny will get the bite eventually. They don’t really talk about it, but they all know. It’s common knowledge, really. But Stiles, Stiles is nothing. He’s just kind of there. He’s not smart (or he is, but Lydia is the genius), he’s not handsome or beautiful or hot and nobody seems to like his personality. Even during pack meetings, that used to be the highlight of his week, he doesn’t feel welcome anymore. It’s not like they’re not nice to him, or don’t accept them, they just don’t need him anymore. He knows it, they know it.

So his messed up eating routine gets worse. He doesn’t only do it when he’s had a particularly bad week or day anymore, he starts doing it almost every time he feels even a little bit out of control, and stops eating almost anything outside of his little eat/puke routine. It makes him feel in control, and like he’s finally capable of doing anything other than being the stupid, loud, abrasive, annoying kid that he knows he is. It’s something that is his, something that only he knows about and it makes him feel just a little better.

But he isn’t young anymore, and he sure as hell isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He knows the facts, knows the name and most importantly he knows what side effects his behavior has on his body, but he just can’t seem to stop. It’s addicting, the number on the scale that keeps getting lower and lower and the constant growling of his empty stomach. He’s not even doing this to lose weight, he just likes to see the number decrease, and know that he can control something, even if it’s super unhealthy.

So, while all of his friends are out being heroes, he spends his nights feeling miserable, and mostly he winds up slumped over the toilet bowl with his fingers down his throat. And nobody seems to notice. 

_Or maybe they just don’t care._

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just the prologue, I already have chapter 1 done, and it is more like an actual story with dialogue and it is also longer so this was basically just an intro. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: winchesterroad.tumblr.com :)


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